Sunday, April 13, 2003

So, last night, I attended my first official frat party. It’s sad that I’m a senior in college and have just attended my first frat party. And sadder that I came to the party sober, remained sober throughout, and drove all the way home this morning totally sober. It’s even sadder still that I’m utterly white in every respect, and can neither dance, nor be enticed to dance. And while these things are certainly tragic, I actually had a pretty good time.

I say “actually” because I’m not sure anyone can quite imagine me at a frat party. I’m not really the partying sort. But anything’s fun under black light, so it was good times, man. Brooke’s eyes were freakish; while the white around everyone else’s eyes was glowing, Brooke’s interior circle around her pupil was glowing too. Daysi thought my green teeth and hair were hilarious; why do I turn green under black light? Angela’s face was red from the heat in the basement, and her hair turned sort of a neon green under the light; she looked like Christmas.

The band wasn’t bad. And it was funny to watch Daysi getting hit on. And I discovered that Hardee’s has really good milkshakes.

I wonder how much of drunkenness is just put on? I saw some really drunk people last night. And the ones that were really drunk, I think, didn’t think they were drunk, they just couldn’t walk in a straight line or have a normal human conversation. But then I saw a lot of people too, who were loud and goofy and reiterating constantly that they were drunk, and I think, they probably weren’t so drunk really.

And then on the way home, we killed an hour by mysteriously transferring from 30 to 23 and going all the way to Marion, which is about oh, say, forty-five minutes out of our way. So I didn’t get home until about 5:00 this morning.

Just about that time, I guess, my mom called my dad to ask him to pick her up at work and take her to the hospital. I guess they were in the emergency room all morning, and didn’t get home until about 1:30 when I woke up. They’re not sure what’s wrong with her yet. But they think either gastrointeritis or some sort of stomach infection, or worst case scenario, a pinched intestine or something like that. I wasn’t there, so I couldn’t say.

I’m surprised I don’t feel guilty about going to a frat party while my mom was sick. While I couldn’t predict her illness, facts aren’t usually cold enough to stop me from feeling guilty. And my lack of guilt over this is strange. Perhaps it’s progress. It’s certainly about time I started making some.

And today, I have a busy day ahead of me. First, I have to get some generalized homework done. Then I have to take Britt to Columbus. Then I have to come home and read the book of Exodus and write a paper on it. Hopefully, this time, I won’t wait to start until 11 at night, thinking it won’t take me very long, and end up still writing at 4am, and skipping class the next day because of exhaustion. That would be nice.